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A Bard in Cats Clothing

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If he wasn’t near to bleeding out, the ugly gash on his stomach barely holding together, Lambert would really appreciate how Aiden “danced” over the battlefield. Wielding short daggers instead of swords, using them as an extension of his arms and almost flying. Lambert's heart was full of love as he watched his partner scream and attack.

They had camped next to a small stream when a group of bandits and mages had attacked them with the first light of the day. An unusual group to be working together but Lambert didn’t have time to wonder about it much before having to fight for his life.

Aiden pushed another bandit down and rushed to his lover’s side.

“Lambert!” The Cat shouted in panic as he decapitated the last of the mages that had attacked them and cradled the Wolf Witcher up in his arms.

Lambert smiled weakly, his stomach wide open, still bleeding, slowly drifting off.

“I swear you asshole if you die I will make you regret it. You are not allowed to die on me! YOU HEAR ME YOU SON OF A WHORE!”

“Love you,” was the last thing Lambert whispered before closing his eyes.

Eskel was in heaven. The first thing he had done after leaving Kaer Morhen in spring was to ride to the Forest Grove, Lil´ Bleater in tow to meet Dahlia again. The nymph had waited for him, had tightly embraced and kissed him and when they had sunken to the warm moss he had felt like he was floating.

His goat had found rest under the risen roots of the Ash Tree and he found himself bound by similar roots when she grinned at him. “You are mine now Witcher.”

“Yes, yes I am Darling.”

She had grinned at him, almost wickedly, before embracing him.

It was a new experience to Eskel. Her skin felt dry and a bit rough, like smoothed tree bark but Eskel found himself loving the sensation. Her mouth had still tasted of honey and strawberries and he had been eager to find out if she was as delicious elsewhere.

Much later she had looked at him with something uneasy in her bright green eyes.

“You need to go now, Witcher. Your brothers need you.”

He had not understood at the time but she had told him where to go and to ride fast.

When he had reached the campsite he had heard screams and cries and later he had to peel Aiden off his unmoving brother.

“I had the weirdest dream tonight my Wolf.”

“Hm?” Geralt rolled onto his side, so he could look at his lover a lazy smile on his face. They had been lucky and found an inn last night, just before the rain had hit down heavy. Jaskier had curled up on the bed like a kitten and had sung Geralt to sleep.

The Witcher had been drained, tired after a successful hunt and fell asleep with his head on Jaskiers lap, his voice lulling him to slumber was one of his favourite things.

“Oh yes, see I had this dream about being courted.” Jaskiers lips twitched. “I got the Handkerchief and the prettiest spoon and a new winter coat and all the other Courting gifts and yet….”


“And yet my beloved and I didn’t get married yet. Strange isn’t it?”

Geralt looked slightly sheepish and shy to the side as he sat up, while Jaskier turned to face him.

“I’m not mad Geralt, I just want to know if you changed your mind?”

“NO!” The Witcher grabbed for his lover's hands. How was he supposed to explain that he wanted to marry Jaskier, didn’t want anything more than that but he wanted to buy him the perfect home first at the coast like he had always wanted and that’s why he was slowly stirring their travel west.

He wanted to have everything in place for them to settle down if the bard wished so, or a home to come back to between travels.


“No…I just…..Fuck.”

Jaskier sat up and crawled onto Geralts lap, wrapping his arms around him. “Do you love me?”

“Yes, more than anything.”

“Do you want to be with me?”


“Okay….” Jaskier shrugged. “I just need you by my side to be happy.” There was a pause before Jaskier grinned. “I also need my Lute….and good food…..Aiden…..Music…Dance…Actually….I need a lot of things. I’m a fucking delight!” Geralt snorted and mumbled under his breath but loud enough for the bard to hear. “Fucking high maintenance is what you are.”

“Oh yeah?” Jaskier picked a pillow up and smashed it against his partners face. “I show you high maintenance.” He said before pushing Geralt down and claiming his lips in a searing kiss.

He was just about to unbutton Geralts breeches, eager to wrap his flush lips around his lover's cock when someone knocked so hard on the door that the hinges made a creaking noise.

 “This room is fucking occupied.” Geralt laughed but tensed as the knocking continued even more forcefully.

“It’s me!” The bard and the Witcher both looked curiously at each other and Geralt moved to open the door, re-lacing his breeches.

“Eskel? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Lambert. He got injured. We don’t think he will make it.”